


Unwelcome Inheritance

by TheWritingSquid



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: DMC Hanami Week, Dadgil, Demon Child has Demon Problems, Family Dinner, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Kid Nero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingSquid/pseuds/TheWritingSquid
Summary: Eight year old Nero suddenly develops a demon arm, and although he finds it scary and confusing, the rest of his family immediately finds cause for celebration.[Fluffy AU where Sparda and Eva are still alive. :)]
Relationships: Eva & Nero (Devil May Cry), Nero & Sparda (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 373





	Unwelcome Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlueSalt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlueSalt/gifts).



> A twitter-raffle fic that quickly went way over the intended word count, cause I was enjoying myself quite a lot. Prompt given by GlueSalt!
> 
> Posting it on Hanami Week, Day 2, for the Devil Trigger / Motivation prompt. :)

Nero ran into the house this afternoon, eyes so wet he could barely see, his steps stumbling like his heart. He didn’t hurt, not really, but every glance he caught of his black scaled arm made him jump, and it made his insides all wobbly, and that in turn made his legs wobbly too. He liked his arm pink and not glowy (well, the glow was kinda cool, but it was scary too), and he didn’t know why it was like that, and he didn’t want to be out alone with it. It was acting _so weird_.

“Dad!” His voice was a squeak and he didn’t like it. Nero sniffed and rubbed his nose with his good, normal arm, and he tried again, with more strength this time. Because he _wasn’t_ scared. **“Dad!”**

“Nero?”

That wasn’t Dad. That was Eva, which was almost just as good. “Nonna!” He sprinted towards her as she leaned from the kitchen’s door. Her eyes widened as she spotted his arm, and Nero heard a pan clatter when she dropped everything to open her arms for him. He threw himself there, hiding his face in the curtain of golden hair.

“Nonna, m-my arm, it’s--”

Steady fingers brushed through his hair as she hushed him. “It’s all right, Nero. I saw it. Does it hurt?”

Nero shook his head, keeping very close to her. She was so warm and so calm.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I-I was climbing the tree.” He stopped, going all stiff. He wasn’t allowed high up the tree. She wouldn’t be happy about it. “P-please don’t tell Dad.”

“We may have to, Nero,” she said, pulling away. She tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at her eyes. He liked Nonna’s eyes. They were green and kind and very happy all the time. “He will want to know, but I do not think he will be very angry.”

Nero pouted. Dad was always kinda angry, but it often wasn’t at him, even if it wasn’t easy to tell. He just had this face, or that’s what Uncle Dante said. That it wasn’t his dad’s fault if he looked like he drank piss every day. He had also said not to repeat that, but Nero found it very funny and thought about it a lot.

Nonna brushed hair out of his face, silently encouraging him to go on.

“I fell off the tree. I was very high and that was very scary, and--” He didn’t know how to explain. It had happened very fast. “My arm burned and then it was kinda cold in a nice way, and I wasn’t falling, but I had my eyes closed and I didn’t know why, so I opened them, and there was this big blue hand at the end of my arm!”

He threw both of his hands up, growing more excited with the tale as he went on, and for a brief instant his dark arm flashed blue. Nero yelped and brought it down, staring at it.

“I-I think it didn’t want me to fall,” he said, his voice quiet.

Nonna reached for the arm. Nero yanked it away at first, but she smiled at him and tried again, so he forced himself not to move. He wanted to look away and his heart beat very fast, but nothing bad happened when Nonna touched it. The arm didn’t go boom or anything and he released a big breath. Which made the arm go a bit golden, and _that_ was scary, and when he yelped it went right back to blue.

“Hmm.”

Nonna was not scared. Even when the colour changed, she kept her fingers on it. She touched the scales very softly and smiled at Nero. “It reminds me of Sparda’s. Do you want to ask him? Your Dad is not home.”

Nero sniffed and then nodded. His nonno knew all kinds of things. Maybe he knew what his arm was. Eva straightened up, holding his black hand with tiny claws just like it was his real hand, and together they climbed up the stairs to his nonno’s study.

That’s when everything stopped making sense.

Nonno was _really_ happy about the arm. He kept saying it was so very impressive and asking Nero to do the big hand again, and Nero didn’t know how to do that, but his Nonno said that was okay and they would teach him. And then he said they needed to celebrate it, and Nero didn’t understand why, because he only wanted his arm to be normal and pink again. But there was no stopping Nonno when he was so excited, so when he put a phone in Nero’s hands and told him to call his Dad, Nero did it without protesting.

Dad picked up right away. He always did when Nero called, because Nero never called. He knew he didn’t like to be interrupted.

“Nero?”

“D-Dad.” He had sounded angry. Or maybe he was worried.

“Is something wrong, Nero?”

Nero decided that meant he was worried. Before he could answer, a loud screech pierced the phone. His dad scoffed, and there was some squishy sound.

“Nonno wants to speak with you,” Nero said, looking up at his two grandparents. Eva whispered that they could talk to him on speaker, so Nero pressed the button hard then lifted the phone so it would be at the very center of everyone.

“Father?” Dad asked. He always called Nonno ‘Father’ and Uncle Dante thought it was funny.

“I’m here too,” Nonna said.

“Can one of you--Excuse me.” His dad stopped, muttering something. There was a lot of other screeches. None of it sounded pleasant, but Nero knew his Dad and Uncle fought a lot of unpleasant things. When they had died down, he returned to the phone. “All right. I should have a moment of peace now. Tell me.”

“Nero is growing into a full demon!” Nonno exclaimed, and Nero almost dropped the phone. “The first signs of his powers are here, Son.”

“Th-the first signs?”

Nero tried to tell what his Dad was thinking, but he never let a lot of his feelings in his voice. It was even harder on the phone. He hoped he wasn’t angry.

“It’s his arm, Vergil,” Eva said. “He is healthy but I think you should come home to be with us. Is your business almost completed?”

There was a long pause. Nero pouted. That meant it wasn’t, and his Dad didn’t like unfinished business. He had explained that at length before. Nero didn’t want to bother him. He didn’t like the arm but if Dad was doing important things, he could wait.

“It’s o--” Nero started.

“I’ll wrap it up,” Vergil said at the same time.

Nonna smiled at the phone. She had that smile when she was glad she didn’t have to scold him, too. Nero thought they would hang up then, but Nonno took the phone from his hands and brought it to his ear. He never really understood Speaker.

“Son, this needs to be celebrated. We will be calling your brother over.”

“ _What?_ ”

“That is what humans do. They celebrate together.”

Nonno always made it sound simple, even if Dad said it was very complicated. Nero thought it was simple, too. He liked his Uncle, so he was happy to see him. He didn’t understand why Dad said he didn’t hate Uncle Dante but still didn’t want to see him. Nonno told him to hang up, even if Dad was protesting still, so Nero did and hoped Dad wouldn’t be too angry at him. When Eva gestured for the phone, he was more than happy to give it away. He didn’t like hanging up on Dad, no matter who told him to.

“I’ll call your Uncle now. Why don’t you go to the kitchens? I left some chocolate cookie batter in a bowl, and it could use an expert’s opinion.”

Nero’s eyes widened. Nonna always said not to eat before it was cooked, so he didn’t need to be told twice. He brought his arm close to him, a bit afraid to let it touch the walls, and he ran down to the cookie bowl, snatching it up with his human arm. He didn’t have spoons, but the bowl was full, so he scooped it up with his fingers and shoved it in his mouth. Nonna hadn’t said he could only have a little, and he didn’t think it was dinner time, so it was probably all right. It was very sweet and chocolatey, which was all he wanted. Nero scraped more of it up, shoving as much as he could in his mouth (okay, he probably wasn’t supposed to eat this much, but it was so good!). He kept an eye on his strange arm as he ate, but by the time Nonna came downstairs and took the bowl away with a laugh, it still hadn’t done anything weird again.

###

Uncle Dante got there first. He swooped into the house, red coat flying behind him as he called out to his favourite nephew. Uncle Dante didn’t care how often Dad or even Nero pointed out he only had one nephew, he still always called Nero his favourite. Nero liked it, so he didn’t protest all that often.

For once, he didn’t come running as soon as he heard his uncle’s voice. He knew Dante would want to see the arm, and Nero still didn’t understand why no one was worried about it. When he had told Nonno that his arm scratched, he had only given him a rumbling laugh and said that was the rest of his demon hoping to be let out. Nero thought that sounded scary, especially in Nonno’s deep and proud voice, so he’d muttered an ‘ok’ and skittered back to the kitchen. At least his nonna understood as little as he did, so she didn’t say things like that.

Uncle Dante didn’t mind that Nero had stayed in his seat in the kitchen. He strode in with that very big smile of his and scooped Nero right out of the chair.

“How are you feelin’ on your big day, little man?” he asked. “Wanna show me?”

Nero wished he could hide the arm, but Eva had said there was no need to bandage it. Shyly, he raised it and spread his clawed fingers out. He didn’t look at Uncle Dante, just in case. He didn’t like to disappoint him.

Uncle Dante whistled. “Woah, Nero, that looks rad as f--hell.”

He had stopped just short of swearing. Nero knew it, because Uncle Dante slipped a lot, and it always earned him glares from Nonna and Dad. He said they had the same scary glare, and Nero knew exactly what he meant. Nonna didn’t get angry often, but when she did, it always felt a lot like Dad. Nero hoped he never saw it again.

“It’s scary,” Nero muttered.

“Scary?” Dante repeated before tapping the arm. “New things can be scary, kid, but that doesn’t make them less cool. Mom said you’d even done some neat tricks with it. Wanna show me?”

Nero pouted and shook his head. He didn’t want to see the big blue hand again. Then it was Uncle Dante’s turn to pout, and Nero felt bad about it. He squirmed until Dante put him down, but his Uncle ran a hand through his hair as he did. “S’all right, little man. We’re not in any rush. Wanna hear about my day?”

“Was it a nap day?” Nero asked. Those were _boring_. Sometimes his Uncle spent whole days doing nothing but sleep, and he acted like those were the best times of his life! Nero didn’t understand why anyone would want to stay put for so long. Uncle Dante hesitated, and Nero immediately knew he had been right: it had been a nap day. “Uncle Dante, I don’t care if you sleep on the couch or at your desk! I wanna hear about the demons you fight with Dad.”

Dad would never tell him, but Nero liked to hear about how cool he was with a sword. He wished he didn’t have to go through Dante to have these stories.

His uncle glanced up, at Nonna, then shook his head. “Another time. Is that where your Dad is?”

“Vergil said he would wrap it up as quickly as possible,” Eva said. “He should be here soon, but in the meantime, you and Nero could help with dinner. Potatoes need to be peeled.”

Uncle Dante grimaced, but even Nero knew there was no escaping Nonna with that tone. He said something about it being impolite to make guests work for their dinner, but he was already striding right past her and towards the pantry. He stopped on his way to drop a kiss on her temple, bending gracefully to do so and whispering something to her. Probably something nice, because Nonna laughed and waved him away, but she was smiling more now.

They set to work, and Nero wished he didn’t have to touch the potatoes with his strange arm, but the tiny claws did help keep them steady. He wasn’t very good at it, even if Uncle Dante pretended he was the most pro potato peeler he had ever seen. Nero knew that wasn’t true, because when Dad didn’t feel like doing the chore, he would glare at the potatos and the outline of his body would become a strange blue, and then all of them were chopped and diced in the blink of an eye! Nonna always scolded him for using his powers in the house, but Nero thought it was very cool, and his dad always looked a little straighter when he _ooo_ ’d. Nero wished his dad was here, even if he still thought he would be angry about the tree. Nonna said Vergil didn’t like sudden changes, so maybe he would understand why the arm was scary.

They were almost done with the potatoes when the front door creaked open again. Nero’s heart jumped and he almost cut himself from the suddenness of it. His arm had gone quiet in the last hour, but now it buzzed again, and it was shining this very strange blue again. Nero didn’t dare to move. He stared at the kitchen’s entrance until his Dad stepped through.

Nero’s stomach churned when he saw him. His pretty coat had blood stains all over and big tears in its sides and along the sleeves, and the red had spread from it to his dad’s hands and hair. Nero watched it drip with a strange fascination. They never let him see the blood.

“I’m home, Nero,” Dad said, a little strained and breathless. He stepped forward but stopped at a single look from Nonna.

“No blood in the kitchen, Vergil,” she scolded.

Dad scowled at her. “But--”

“No exceptions.”

She set down the bowl in which she had been mixing a ‘farce’, which she’d told him went into the chicken, but which his Dad had said was also a joke, once. Nero thought it was confusing and perhaps they shouldn’t put jokes in chickens. The two of them just stared at each other for a long time, and Nero wondered if he would one day learn to talk with his eyes like they did. He could tell they were having an entire conversation in silence.

Dad gave in first (he always gave in to Nonna). He tilted his chin up, muttered an icy “very well” and stalked off. Nero couldn’t help but think he walked a little strange, like he hurt in his side. For the first time, he realized maybe some of the blood was his dad’s, too. His stomach squeezed hard and he forgot about his buzzing arm and slammed the potato and knife down, sliding off the chair and running after him.

“Dad!”

He had reached the first step of the stairs but turned as Nero called--just in time for Nero to fling himself into his legs without touching the bloodstained coat. His arm shone a really bright blue now.

“Nero…” He didn’t sound angry, so Nero held on tighter. “Please. Mother will scold me if you get blood on you.”

Nero pulled back, in part because now his dad did sound angry. Or irritated. But with him, it could go from one to the other very quickly, and he didn’t want to make him very angry. He scuffed at the ground, staring at his dad’s blood-covered boots.

“I’m sorry.”

“Son.” He crouched down, and the tails of his coat spread out. They would definitely get blood on the floor, and Nonna would not be happy about that either. Dad touched his chin, prompting Nero to look up into his father’s unreadable blue eyes. “This is an important day. I promise I will be with you soon.”

At Nero’s slight nod, he straightened back up in a flutter of fabric and headed up the stairs. Nero watched his blue coat disappear, his chest feeling all kind of weird. Dad didn’t seem worried, either. No one seemed worried about this arm, even though it still had the low buzz and wouldn’t go away.

Nero pressed his lips together, his throat tightening. Maybe he was really stuck with it. Maybe he was meant to be and he should get to it. But he didn’t want to, he _really didn’t want to._ He wanted his normal arm back, like his dad and uncle and nonno had, but they all liked this new arm and Nero couldn’t help but think they’d never show him how to get rid of it. With a tiny sniff, he swallowed back his tears. Everyone was happy and he should try to be, too, so they wouldn’t start to feel bad.

###

By the time Nonna served dinner, Nero was feeling a little better. Dad had come out of the shower looking a lot more like himself, even though Nero thought he still walked a little weird. Uncle Dante must have seen it, too, because he kept asking about the mission and how it had gone. Dad snapped back at him, and Nonno had to stop them from fighting again. Usually Nero didn’t like when they fought, but now it distracted everyone from his arm, so for once he didn’t mind. He ate in silence, but Uncle Dante noticed that, too.

“Did the new arm eat your tongue, little man?” he asked. “Can’t remember when you last kept so quiet.”

Nero shoved mashed potatoes into his mouth in an attempt to keep it full and make silence the only polite thing to do, but no one stole the conversation and ran away with it. They stared at him, patiently waiting for his massive chomp to be over. Nero swallowed.

“I’m fine.”

“How is your arm, Nero?” Dad asked. Cleaning had taken him so long they had never had a chance to be just the two of them before dinner. Apart from the brief time bickering with Uncle Dante, he had barely ever stopped staring at the scaled arm. Nero brought it closer.

“Still ugly and scary.”

For some reason, Nonno thought that was funny and laughed. Nero stared at him. He wanted to be angry because he was being laughed at, but it was hard to be angry at his nonno. He had too much hair, and that made him look comfy and nice, and Nero always forgot what he was angry for when he tried to glare too long.

“It is not scary, Nero,” Nonno said. “I think it is very cute.”

“Is _not_ ,” Nero argued, but that made Uncle Dante smile in that ‘definitely cute’ way. Nero huffed and scratched at his nose with his human hand. “It’s not!”

A hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it, and Nero turned to his dad. His eyes were so shiny now, and he had one of those rare smiles. His fingers slid from Nero’s shoulder to the arm itself, which buzzed harder and turned a bright blue. Nero could barely feel his dad’s hand on the scales because of it.

“It is a beautiful arm, Nero. It means you are one of us, and that you are growing up.”

Nero pouted. He had thought he was already one of them, whatever that meant. He wanted to ask, but Dad looked so proud of him, and Nero didn’t want to disappoint him. Dad didn’t often look this happy.

“You want me to keep it?”

“Don’t you, Nero?”

Nero stared at the arm, then at his dad. He didn’t understand why everyone loved the arm, but they did. Maybe that should be enough for him. He poked at it and smiled at his dad. “I want more potatoes.”

They left it at that. Nonna got him more potatoes and started talking about all the troubles his dad and uncle would get into when they first sprouted their wings, and how they kept jumping down very high places before they learned to fly. Nero turned to his dad again, because he always forbade him to climb up that big tree he had fallen from, but now Nonna was saying he was always up in it, too. Dad grew redder and muttered something about having peace from Dante to read, but then Uncle Dante protested and said the tree was Dad’s idea, that he was always the one saying they should learn to fly. And then they were fighting again, but this time Nonno didn’t break it up until Dad suggested they should go to the back yard so he could teach Dante what he could do with his powers. Nero didn’t understand why everyone thought that was a bad idea, because he would have loved to see it.

They didn’t discuss his arm again during dinner, but Uncle Dante congratulated him about it again after dessert and said he couldn’t wait to see what other cool new tricks Nero would come up with next. Nero didn’t want to think about other things coming next, so he scowled at that, but his uncle didn’t really seem to notice. He messed up Nero’s hair then followed Nonna and Nonno out of the house, because Nonna insisted they wanted to show him something. Nero thought that meant he and Dad were in charge of the dishes, so he picked up his plate to bring to the sink. Dad stopped him.

“Leave it. You are not cleaning on your celebratory dinner.”

Dad picked his hand and pulled him towards the living room. They sat in the big seat he loved for storytelling, but instead of keeping him on his lap, Dad moved him to the armrest, so he could more easily turn Nero. The smile he’d had earlier was gone and big rocks dropped in Nero’s stomach at his frown. Dad _was_ angry. Nero ducked his head.

“I’m sorry I climbed the tree you told me not to climb.”

Something strange flashed through his dad’s expression. It looked like surprise, but Nero didn’t understand why.

“Is that how it happened?” His brow furrowed. “Did you fall?”

Nero cast his eyes down. He knew Dad would only get angrier now, so he stared at his clawed hand in silence. Maybe if he didn’t say anything… But Dad slid a finger under his chin and tilted it back up, so it became harder to avoid speaking. He was never very good at lying.

“I--I caught myself. With it.”

“Nero, when I say something is dangerous…” Vergil stopped with a sigh. “Nevermind the tree for now. We have more pressing concerns.” He released Nero’s chin and lifted his tiny claws instead. “I could not fail to notice you do not enjoy your arm. Are you not excited, Nero?”

The arm was buzzing again in that weird, uncomfortable way. It always did that around Dad, didn’t it? “It’s weird and scary. I like my human arm better.”

“Nero, this arm is the start of your power.” Dad cradled the arm gently. He looked so in awe with it, and Nero felt guilty for not loving it as much as his dad did. He didn’t want to make him sad. “I was worried you would never manifest your heritage. And it shines such a beautiful blue… Don’t you want to keep it?”

He had asked that before. Nero’s shoulders hunched. “No…”

“Why? You’re my son. This arm is proof of it.”

Nero didn’t understand why he said things like that, like when he’d said Nero was one of them now. He froze. That could only mean one thing. “D-Do I need the arm… to be family? I-I have to keep it?”

Silence followed his question. Nero fought against his tears. Was that why they were all so happy? They had been waiting for him to be a demon too, so he could really be in the family. Maybe they loved the arm more than they loved him. Maybe he really did have to keep it, or they would--

“Nero.” His dad’s voice had a strange crack in it. Firm fingers lifted his head until he was looking into pale blue eyes. “You cannot rid yourself of the arm. It is who you are. But I loved you without it, and I would have loved you even if it had never come.”

He sounded like he meant it. “P-promise?”

“I promise, son.”

Nero flung himself into Dad’s chest, throwing his arms around his neck. He didn’t want Dad to be angry at him, or disappointed, but suddenly he was crying and he could feel all of his fears spilling out.

“I don’t like it. I don’t wanna be a demon. You and Uncle and Nonno can all stay human but I can’t, I’m just turning into a demon, and it buzzes and it hurts and-and there was this big blue hand earlier and all of it just happened on its own--”

“Oh, Nero…” Dad held him tight against his chest. “You cannot change who you are, but we can help you control your powers. The first time I turned into a demon, I couldn’t go back on my own, either. Dante had to exhaust me.”

“R-really?” Nero pulled back, hands on his Dad’s shoulders. “But you never lose control.”

Dad smiled at him, one of these rare and warm smiles Nero really loved. He wiped Nero’s tears with a thumb. “Really. Discipline is a skill one must train, as I believe I have told you many times before.”

Nero pouted. He had definitely said that, but his exercises always took a lot of patience and Nero didn’t have any of that. He hoped it wouldn’t be the same with the arm, because that would be very boring. Still. Maybe he could do it. He really wanted to learn.

“Then I will try,” he said with all the determination he could muster. “I will train and I will learn discipline, and I will make you proud.”

His dad’s smile widened, and he pulled Nero into a tight hug once again. “I’m sure you will, son.”

His voice had gone all mushy, and Nero wondered if he wanted to cry. Dad didn’t really cry, but sometimes it sounded like he might. It always happened when he was smiling, too, which Nero thought was very strange. But he must have been all right, because he kissed the side of Nero’s head and squeezed a little more.

Nero relaxed in his arms. If Dad was gonna teach him all about the arm, then it would be all right, wouldn’t it? It had to be. Already, the arm didn’t buzz as much as it used to. It felt kind of warm, really, and when Nero glanced at it, he noticed its glow had turned a soft, gentle gold.


End file.
